


Don't Touch Her

by JackofAllMasterofNone



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mind Control, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackofAllMasterofNone/pseuds/JackofAllMasterofNone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“why are you looking at me like that. come on, i love you, you know that–oh, why are you pointing that gun/sword/knife/blaster/etc. at me. put it…put it down nice and gently. i love you, please don’t do this. put it down. you’re not in you’re right mind, they’re controlling you, pLEASE DON’T KILL ME. I LOVE YOU. COME ON, PLEASE PUT IT DOWN YOU’RE SCARING ME THIS ISN’T YOU YOU’RE UNDER MIND CONTROL” au</p><p>In which Stiles is tortured and broken and the McCall Pack will have to deal with the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tortured

Stiles wasn’t new to torture. He had been nearly killed, several times, and most of that was on accident. Stiles had been possessed by the nogitsune and tortured in his own head. Stiles had seen people torture and people tortured, and it hurt every time.

But he was used to it.

Stiles was - not stronger - but numbed to the pain. And there was really only one thing left that could hurt him.

_Hurt the people he loves._

Stiles knew, he knew, the pack could protect themselves. Scott would always watch over the Sheriff, and Mama McCall would be just fine, and all the others had teeth and claws. Except one, of course, and really that was the breaking point for Stiles.

When they brought her into Eichen House where his torturers had taken up residence, and they dragged her into his cell and threw her at his feet so he could see the blood dripping from her hair and the claw marks on her arms and the ripped clothing and he could hear her rasping breath and he reached out for her - almost touched her - when

She was gone.

They took her away from him and he couldn’t breathe and he was yelling, over and over again as they carried her down the hall to some far away room, over and over repeating words he couldn’t understand as his breath dwindled and his lungs tightened and his heart was pounding in his ears and he was yelling and his eyes strained for one more sight of her strawberry blond hair, drenched with blood as it was, and his eyes were streaming with tears and he was pounding on the bars of the cell as his screams were lost in the corridors of Eichen House.

They had Lydia.

Everyday from then on, they opened his cell and he followed the monsters down a different hallway every time into a new room where she lay, silent, asleep, on one of the prison-style beds. Everyday they allowed his to check her wounds and listen to her heartbeat for exactly one minute before hauling him away. Everyday except one day, when there were no injuries and her heart thumped faster, stronger. Stiles made the mistake of breathing out, “Oh thank god,” before he was torn away from her ten seconds too soon. Two of them grabbed him and pinned his arms behind his back as a third one of whatever they were (Stiles had never heard of anything like them and without the bestiary and Google he didn’t think he would ever know for sure) grabbed Lydia. Together they walked back to Stiles’ room, and past, and then he knew where the things were taking them.

The torture room.

But this time, it wasn’t Stiles on the rack. They tied Lydia up and made her bleed as Stiles watched. “I’m sorry,” he cried to her, “I’m sorry I love you I’m sorry Lydia it’s my fault I’m sorry I love you.” They had found the one thing that could hurt him.

He pleaded with them, begged, “Please! You can break my soul, take my life away, beat me, hurt me, or even kill me, but please for the love of god don’t touch her! Stop touching her!” He repeated his plea, over and over, yelling it, whispering it. It became a chant, an anchor.

In the end, he was broken by Lydia’s scream. Not a banshee scream, but _Lydia_. Strong, brave, wonderful Lydia who was in pain because of him. And Stiles was watching and she screamed and his world became muted as the whispers began, swirling around his head and everything went black.

~~~~

Lydia woke up in Scott McCall’s house, on his living room couch, surrounded by the pack. Melissa was checking her pulse and someone else was applying ice to her… well everything. Everything hurt, and she soon fell back into the darkness. The next time she woke up, it was to the sound of pacing. Scott stood by her head, then her feet, then back to her head.

“Wh-” she tried to speak, but it came out as little more than a hitch in her breath.

Scott pivoted and looked straight at her. “Don’t try to speak,” he said gently, “I’ll get some water.” He was back nearly before she could blink.

After drinking the full glass, she tried again. “Where is Stiles?” she managed. Her voice was rough as sandpaper, painful from screaming endlessly. It was what she remembered most - the screaming. And Stiles. Always Stiles.

“They have him, Lyds,” Scott told her. She nodded as he told her what she already knew; how the monsters had taken him to gain information about something in the bestiary, something to do with the Beacon Hills pack, how they had tortured him in Eichen House, how they had taken Lydia and tortured her. She told him about how they made Stiles watch and how they had broken him. She kept to herself what he had said to her over and over again until it became her focus to get her through the pain, “I love you Lydia. I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry.” She did tell Scott about Stiles screaming, louder than her, and the monsters hovering over him, their horrible voices a hush that took over everything before she passed out.

“He’s in trouble,” she said. “We need to go back there!”

Scott turned his puppy eyes on her, and Lydia’s heart broke. “Lydia,” his voice was soft, so soft, “they took him. They left, and Stiles is gone with them.”

Lydia screamed.

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short! This is my first work that will have more than one chapter, and I think you can expect four more? Comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Chaos

A month passed. It was nearly impossible to walk through Beacon Hills without seeing Stiles face - Sheriff Stilinski had insisted on Missing posters despite the fact that the problem was supernatural. The Sheriff really wasn’t doing too well - and neither was the rest of the pack.

Scott, Liam, and Malia went out every possible moment, searching for a scent trail, tracks, anything; Mason and Lydia were digging through every bestiary they had at their disposal, searching for anything about the monsters; Kira had asked her parents and tried to learn more about her kitsune powers; they were all constant visitors to Eichen House. So far, they hadn’t found a single thing.

“There’s not even blood on the floors!” Lydia remarked for the fiftieth time, walking around and around the room she had been tortured in. 

“But it doesn’t smell like cleaning solution,” Malia added, “so where did the blood go?”

“Wait,” Liam whispers. Lydia and Malia look over at him, and the anxiously towards the outer hallway where Scott is standing guard. “Do you hear that?”

As the words come out of his mouth, Scott bursts inside the room. “They’re back!” he yells, face already shifting. Lydia watches in fascination as hair grows from his face, and Liam activates his change as well. “I smelled them, or something. They’re close,” Scott explains as the group unconsciously steps closer to each other in a defensive position.

“Did you see them?” Lydia asks, “anything to help us identify them?”

Scott shook his head. “I came to warn you as soon as I caught their scent. But it’s weird… they smell like humans, but like something’s turning to mold under their surface.”

Liam and Malia nodded their agreement. “The smell’s getting stronger,” Malia said. Her eyes glowed blue and with a flick of her wrist her claws were visible. 

Not for the first time, Lydia wished she had a weapon. Or maybe a way to call for backup. Because of what happened last time, Kira hadn’t come with the Eichen House, instead staying back with Mason to do more research; “Which is, by the way, nearly impossible because all we know is they took Stiles and they like torture,” Mason had informed them before they left, “We don’t even know what they look like.” Lydia had tried to describe the monsters, but her only memory was the impression of a shifting dark shape before she had passed out for the last time.

The lights flicked around them, then went out. Lydia’s vision adjusted to the dim light coming in from the tiny window near the ceiling. She pinpointed her friends by looking at their luminous eyes, then turned towards the dark shape of the doorway, readying herself for whatever was about to come through. They waited anxiously, defensively, breaths loud in the otherwise quiet basement of Eichen House.

Then noise burst into the room.

~~~~

Without the advantage of werewolf or werecoyote eyes, Lydia had trouble following the blur of motion that came with the monster’s attack. Her eyes flickered around the room, spotting Scott underneath the dingy window, fighting a… human? The human’s shape flickered and for a minute, there were wings and a tail. Not a human then, a shapeshifter of some kind. Lydia filed the information away for later, searching through the chaos for Liam and Malia. 

Across the room from her, she thought she saw Malia’s eyes brighten as she launched herself at one of the creatures. Liam was handling two at once in a corner, shoving one against the wall while holding the other one by its neck above his head. With a ferocious snarl, he picked them up and smashed their heads together, waiting only for them to fall limp before moving on to his next victims. 

Before he got far, Malia let out a wounded growl. One of the creatures had pinned her to the floor, a glowing blue hand inches from her face. Lydia snapped into action, using her recently discovered banshee powers to send a pulse through the air, knocking into the monster atop Malia and sending him flying into the wall ten feet behind him. His head hit the cement and he slumped to the floor. Malia nodded to her once before rolling to her feet and hitting one of the monsters with a punch to the face. 

Lydia glanced around quickly for Scott, noticing in the back of her mind that none of the creatures were targeting her. She was standing in a relatively untouched area of the room. She sent out a few more pulses through the air, keeping her position as she helped her friends from a distance. Each pulse tired her a little more, but the seemingly endless barrage of creatures appeared to be dwindling. Sometimes, when a shapeshifter got to close to her, she would step in and use a few of the moves Parrish had showed her. 

She grinned as she remembered the training session, and how she had won most of their sparring sessions after that. In fact, she had been able to hold her own against most of the supernatural creatures she sparred with - including Scott, although he pouted with his adorable puppy face whenever she got the upper hand. Of course, their super strength outpowered her human strength sooner or later, but she felt accomplished knowing she could last past one hit. Lydia preferred sparring with Stiles though - they were both evenly matched in strength, and they could both use their brains to their advantage while fighting. When Stiles and Lydia sparred, it wasn’t a match, it was a game.

As though her thoughts had called him, when Lydia looked up Stiles was being marched in the door. His hands were behind his back as two of the monsters kept a close hold on his shoulders. 

“Stiles!” she yelled over the noise of fighting. He hadn’t heard her - but Scott did. With what Lydia and Stiles had secretly dubbed the “Alpha Roar,” he beat down the group of monsters surrounding him and made his way across the room towards Stiles. Lydia was doing the same, sending out random pulses of air to keep her path clear. Malia and Liam held the monsters back, and no more seemed to be entering the room.

Scott reached the group of three first, but as if on cue the two shifters holding Stiles released him and attacked Scott. Their human forms became bulky and muscular as they jumped on him, and he roared as they tackled him to the floor. Lydia lost track of them as their fight moved behind on of the pillars in the room, and she focused all her attention on Stiles.

~~~~

“Stiles?” she asked, barely a whisper. He lifted his head slowly, and blinked at her. So he could hear, see, and move. He looked pretty healthy, except for huge shadows under his eyes. His hair was spiked up slightly, as though he had run his fingers through it hundreds of times and it stuck. He looked, she paused, familiar. Not quite like the Stiles they all knew, not like the Stiles she loved, but familiar. “I love you,” she whispered to him, eyes locked on his, breath whooshing out of her as though she couldn’t hold in the words anymore. They said them regularly to each other, comfortably, but he wasn’t saying them back. He was looking at her too, a strange expression on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. His eyes narrowed slightly, and she blinked at the look of anger on his face. He could hear, and see, and move, but could he remember her? “Come on, I love you, you know that,” she said, pleaded with him to remember. As she looked at him, marveled that he was alive, she didn’t notice his movements. He reached for her, fingers reaching, and she was staring down the barrel of a gun, staring at Stiles’ fingers wrapped around the trigger, staring at Stiles’ lips as he said, “Hello Lydia,” in a voice that wasn’t his, staring staring staring as he cocked his head to the side and rested a finger on the trigger.

“Stiles,” her voice wavered, “Stiles, why are you pointed that gun at me? Put it…” she choked on her words, on the emotions that had been bubbling inside her ever since Stiles stepped into the room. “Put it down, nice and gently.” She nearly sobbed as he lowered the gun, but he merely cocked it and raised it back to point at her head. “I love you, please don’t do this. Put it down, Stiles. You’re not in your right mind, they’re controlling you,” she begged.

“Shh, Lydia,” Stiles told her, reaching his other hand to place a finger on her lips. “It will all be over soon. They just need me broken, you see, completely broken, and what better way to break me than to make me kill the woman I love?” He pressed the gun right against her forehead and leaned in, whispering, “They’ll make me enjoy it, too.”

“PLEASE DON’T KILL ME. I LOVE YOU. STILES, COME ON, PUT IT DOWN YOU’RE SCARING ME THIS ISN’T YOU, YOU’RE UNDER MIND CONTROL!” Lydia was aware she was yelling and crying and shaking, but she didn’t move, didn’t look away as Stiles’ emotionless eyes looked back at her. “I love you,” she told him, “Please Stiles you’re scaring me, put the gun down, PLEASE, STILES.”

Blinking hard, Stiles lowered the gun, just a little, but his finger slipped off the trigger. Lydia looked into his eyes one last time, and said, “I love you.”

From behind Stiles, Scott swung a piece of wood, and Stiles slumped to the floor, unconscious.

It was over. The monsters were all taken care of, and now Stiles was safe with them. He was alive.

He was brainwashed, Lydia thought. It’s not over yet.

~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three more chapters! Comments and kudos are always appreciated.


End file.
